The controversy began last month, when Italian newspaper La Repubblica ran a story criticizing a Spanish restaurant chain named, subtly, La Mafia, and Italian politicians spoke out against the chain. Now, Coldiretti has unearthed dozens of other mafia-themed foods from around the world, and the group's president gave the Telegraph a pretty airtight argument against the trend:

“Our research has uncovered a real market of horrors which is making money out of one of the most painful scourges of our society,” Mr Moncalvo said.

“These sorts of unacceptable commercial practises damage the image of Italy abroad, but above all have a profound impact on the many Italians who have been, and who unfortunately continue to be, victims of organised crime.”

Americans’ ignorance of ongoing mafia violence in Italy isn’t the only reason restaurants can get away with naming pizza varieties after real-life mob bosses: Good old callousness plays a role, too. If familiarity with the social ills caused by the mafia were the only issue, we wouldn’t have foods like “crack pie” and “meth-covered doughnuts”—after all, the average American has been hearing about the drug epidemic for decades. Yes those offensively named sweets exist. Many Americans seem to have trouble grasping the idea that while movies, books, and TV shows can be complex enough to illuminate the evils of the drug war (or of organized crime), appetizers, entrées, and desserts cannot. “Crack caramel ice cream” and “Lucky Luciano pizza" communicate only contemptuousness to anyone whose life has been negatively affected by drugs or crime.

And if your response to Coldiretti’s statement, and my defense of it, is to roll your eyes and cite creative license, I say: Naming a pizza chain after a forty-year-old movie is the furthest thing from creative. Coming up with a restaurant menu or snack food that doesn’t rely on tired stereotypes or tasteless jokes—now that requires imagination.